


Your Touch: Magnetizing

by supposed2bfunny



Category: Gorillaz
Genre: Brief mentions of Sebastian Niccals, Extraterrestrial sex y'all!, I don't know how to tag alien sex okay?? Help, M/M, Mentions of drugs, Telepathic Bond, Telepathic Sex, Yeah the title comes from a Katy Perry song--fight me, mentions of abuse, please ask to tag
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-12-14 21:18:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21022424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/supposed2bfunny/pseuds/supposed2bfunny
Summary: Inspired by PsychoRedHead's Alien Au! After a horrible start to the day for both Murdoc and Suu'art, Murdoc proposes a little fooling around to get their minds off of their stress. Turns out his mate has never really experienced foreplay, and Murdoc is more than happy to teach him what body worship is all about.





	Your Touch: Magnetizing

**Author's Note:**

> Terrible description, I know. If you're here, it's because Jakki's (PsychoRedHead16 ) Au has brought you here. You can read her fic for her AU [ right here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20265811), and I would recommend reading that first if you haven't already! What is there to say? She's simply amazing, and one of the most prolific artists I've ever met!  
Please check out all of her social media handles! She's super friendly and talented and ahsdlfasdf!
> 
> Just for clarity's sake in this fic let me explain: Both Murdoc and Stalien are able to communicate verbally and telepathically (Murdoc prefers to verbalize, Stalien to transmit his thoughts directly into Murdoc's mind). While they switch back and forth between both, any time the font is in bold, that's when they're communicating telepathically. It should be fairly easy to follow, but please let me know if any points could be cleared up more!

It seemed as though there were more twigs and branches on the well-worn path than usual. He was hyperconscious of each one that snapped beneath his boots as he speedwalked deeper and deeper into the woods, mind supplying him with images of small bones cracking. Murdoc had always been morbid, but his father Sebastian had always had a way of drawing out the darkness in his mind, spreading it over every inch of his consciousness, suffusing him with something sub-human. He understood: it was a genetic trait to be so miserable.

Sebastian had surprised him by being up and awake in the morning when Murdoc had emerged from his room. As ever, there were no ‘good mornings’ exchanged, only a few curt insults that led to a screaming match, a beer bottle hurled at Murdoc’s head, and a threat to get the fuck out till he learned some respect, and what kind of loser hadn’t landed a job and moved out at his age anyway?

Now, his pace quickened as he thrust himself over fallen logs and through thorn bushes, counting down the steps until he approached the familiar abandoned building.

His stupid alien, Stalien. Suu’art. His secret and his current addiction. The alien’s ability to sooth his mind, to read his emotional distress and distract him from it, transmitting promises of affection and desire directly into his mind was more effective than pot, vodka, even heroine had ever been.

It had begun as a form of bonding, and had escalated into a bizarre dependence for him. He craved the psychological connectivity like a drug, finding himself desperate for a fix every time they were apart for a day or more. Frankly, he doubted he’d still be alive had he not found Stalien. But that wasn’t a rabbit hole he was willing to think his way down any time soon.

Finally, the moss-eaten building came into view and he paused, looking around to make sure, as always, that no one was around to see him. Satisfied that he was alone, he all but ran into the building, wriggling through the door and then wedging it shut again behind him as best he could.

“Oi!” he called. “Where are you, pet?”

Stalien was not on the bed as he often was when Murdoc arrived. Instead, Murdoc walked further into the room, finding the alien laid across the floor, maps and reams of paper piled all around him, jotting down notes in a language that Murdoc didn’t recognize with a splattery ballpoint pen and biting his lip in concentration. He didn’t look up as Murdoc approached.

Tentatively, Murdoc pushed out a greeting telepathically, as their bond now allowed. **Hey. Hello to you too**.

The alien still didn’t look up, though he at least graced him with a mental acknowledgement. **You normally come later in the day**.

**Had a row with the old man. Needed to get out of the house**. He cut himself short there, hoping Stalien would catch the unsaid implication within the sentence. The fact that he desperately needed to get his mind off of it, that he wanted distraction, validation, comfort.

**Do you know**, Stalien’s words pushed themselves into his mind, **I have been reading all morning the correspondence from the facility where my ship is being held. The security is state-of-the-art. There’s no way we will be able to get there without armed guards shooting us down within seconds—**

**Don’t say that**, Murdoc started. **We’ll figure it out. We’ll—**

**Figure it out? Murdoc, it has been months. I am sick of waiting! Of spending every day pouring over documents that I scarcely understand, learning scientific code I don’t care to learn just to have a chance to get out of here.**

“Okay, okay, I get it!” Murdoc snarled out loud. “You’re in a piss-poor mood, fine!”

**I am feeling…**He didn’t need to finish his train of thought. It was exactly what Murdoc himself was feeling. Hopeless. 

“Funny,” Murdoc said, plopping down on the edge of the bed and setting aside a few papers, “I came over here feeling like pure shite, hoping you’d be faring better than me.”

The alien grunted in response. Murdoc wished he’d had the foresight to pack a flask. He reached for the bedside table, where he was fairly certain he’d left a carton of Lucky Lungs.

**I suppose we are both disappointed now**, Stalien replied a little coldly. 

It was like sitting in the eye of a hurricane, wind and lashing rain all about them as they sat several feet apart, not able to speak to one another. 

As with most of his addictions, Murdoc’s need for the emotional connectivity the alien usually provided him with began to manifest physically, first with foot tapping, then graduating into leg bouncing. He fumbled around the bedside drawer, finding cigarettes but no lighter, and he realized ultimately that he hadn’t left one in the shack, nor had he had time to grab one before he’d fled the house. By the time he was tapping his fingers against his thighs as his mind swarmed with Sebastian’s verbal lacerations and his own shame at failing to say anything to perk his mate up, he was practically engulfed by a dark aura of anxiety.

Sighing, Stalien set down his pen and looked up at Murdoc pointedly. **You’re very distracting, Murdoc.**

“Sorry, I’m trying to keep my thoughts to myself here, pet.”

**Given our close physical proximity, you must know how useless that sentiment is.**

“Should I leave then?”

And go where? This place had become his sanctuary. Back before Stalien, there had been the pub. But he doubted it was open yet. He could always wind his way deeper into the woods, spend the day trying to pull himself together in ways he’d once done before he’d had a telepathic boyfriend. None of those options were the least bit appealing now. As much as he hated to admit it, he’d become reliant on the alien in order to function. It was easier to endure the humiliation of renting his childhood bedroom from his abusive father, from being unable to cope with his traumas, from his weakness for liquor and shitty drugs and inability to hold down a rewarding job, from being, in society’s eyes, a failure.

Stalien’s validation, his promise that Murdoc was his mate and he would protect him, his soothing words and hands always quelled the worst of Murdoc’s self doubts. The assurance that he was helping Stalien get back home was also satisfying, lending him a sense that he was doing real good for his lover. Hiding an alien from the government? That was positively badass. And, when all that was still not enough to quiet the storm inside his mind, the mind-blowing sex was pretty sufficient at turning his consciousness to a mush of need and lust and desperation. With Stalien, he could let go for a few minutes or hours, become putty in the creature’s four capable hands (and two very, _very_ capable dicks), and be taken care of.

Oh, how pathetic he sounded as he proposed leaving. It was a matter of self-defense that he was speaking out loud, not trying to transmit his words, lest his swirling panic be transferred along in tandem. Gross.

“No,” now Stalien broke their telepathy to speak to him. “Don’t go, Murdoc. You’re always welcome here,” he paused to watch the shaky breath that Murdoc drew, all in his shoulders and chest, a tight, improper breath if the alien had learned anything about human anatomy. “I did not mean to let my frustration upset you. I should have been more…stoic. I apologize. Murdoc, I’m sorry.”

His English was so much better, Murdoc thought fondly. In their time together, Stalien had quickly gone from speaking almost no English, to speaking it even better than Murdoc’s shitty Stoke dialect would have allowed him to. He attributed it to the volumes of literature from various scientists the alien had been working his way though.

“Fuck off,” he murmured fondly. “I’m the one who came to you a right mess. Don’t think I’ve ever seen you so frustrated. Didn’t know what to do about it.”

“It is…embarrassing,” Stalien said slowly, trying to find the right words. “To admit to you that I am not happy. I know it is not your fault. But I cannot…move out of my own negative frame of mind. This makes sense?”

“Mate, welcome to my bloody world,” he chuckled.

Stalien only winced. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. C’mon, dolt. All this time I’ve known you, every time I come over, stressed out, wound up, you always make me feel better, don’t you?” he asked. The alien nodded as something dawned on Murdoc that made him feel deeply ashamed. “And how many times have I ever really asked you how you were, what you were feeling?”

“You are so new to sharing a bond, Murdoc. I would hardly expect you to—”

“Hush. Don’t make excuses, luv. I haven’t been a very attentive mate to you, have I?” he reached forward, suddenly determined to make it up to the alien, to show him that he could get both of their minds off their pain. “What if I could help you feel better the same way you always do for me?”

The alien’s eyes widened and he tilted his head in a comical paroxysm of confusion. **You would propose seducing me telepathically as I do you?**

“Not sure if I’m quite up for that,” he admitted, because frankly, he didn’t trust himself to spend much time within his mind at the moment. “What I’m saying is, let’s toss the mind games and just mess around for a little bit, okay?”

**Mess around?**

“Yeah,” he urged, reaching forward and running his fingertips down the alien’s long neck, earning a shiver. “Just fool around.”

“I’m sorry…I don’t…follow what you mean.”

“C’mon, pet,” he whispered, tugging the alien closer so he could whisper along his jaw, press his lips to his ear. “Don’t your lot ever just roll around in bed and touch each other? You ever make out for hours and just see where things go?”

**No**, he replied, two hands coming to land on Murdoc’s shoulders as the other two settled on his hips. **You’re not proposing sex?**

“I’m proposing foreplay, you utter idiot. Pleasure for the sake of pleasure. We can fuck if you want, but I think you’ve earned yourself some afternoon delight after a shitty morning of paperwork, don’t you?”

**This is foreign to me.**

“Poor stupid alien,” he smirked. He’d never had the upper hand in their relationship. “Do you trust me?”

**With my life, Murdoc. You know that.**

“Then what do you say you sit back and let me make you feel good? Take your mind off this rocket science rubbish. I’ll show you what we humans do when words and even emotions fail us.” With that, he opened his mouth and pressed a series of wet kisses down the alien’s neck as his hands slid up the set of arms that rested on his hips. 

He could feel the excitement and curiosity bubbling like champagne within Stalien’s consciousness, so it was hardly a surprise when the alien nodded. **Please, Murdoc. Show me.**

“Good boy.”

With that, he reached up, slid his fingers through the alien’s silken hair, and pulled him into a kiss. Stalien was familiar and quite fond of kissing at this point, so he eagerly wrapped all four arms around his mate and kissed back hungrily. In spite of Murdoc’s proposition to try intimacy sans telepathy, the nature of their bond meant that he could still feel the alien’s emotional state somewhat when they were touching like this. It wasn’t that different though, from reading any lover’s mood during a hookup, sensing the excitement, the unabashed interest, in what these kisses and touches could lead to.

Stalien’s forked tongue twined with his, the pronged ends twisting against him so sensually that he moaned loudly, making the alien smile.

“Come lie down, luv. I wanna explore you,” he requested, and he felt the alien tense slightly before obeying, lying on his back on the bed and blinking up at him. “For a seven foot freakshow, you can be cute, you know.”

“Don’t patronize me,” he said aloud, smiling. Murdoc had thrown those very words at him whenever the alien dared call him cute. They shared a quick laugh, and then Murdoc was straddling the alien, slowly unzipping his bodysuit to reveal his broad chest.

“Hm, handsome,” he murmured, pushing the clothing aside to trace his pectoral muscles, fingers gliding along smooth pink skin. He could feel the faint protrusion of his ribs: however strong the alien was, he was on the slender side, and when his chest rose with his breathing, his sternum was just faintly visible. With a fond smile, he leaned down and began kissing Stalien’s neck, taking his time for perhaps the first time since they had bonded. When they began fucking, it was fast and furious, their telepathic and empathic bond making them both clingy towards one another in a way that Murdoc had never been with another lover. Stalien had explained how they needed to consummate their relationship frequently to maintain the bond, an obligation they had both quickly taken to without question.

This was different though. Now, he catalogued the smell of the alien’s smooth, warm skin, clean and faintly spicy, something that reminded him of cinnamon or nutmeg. He had no idea what Stalien’s people thought of him, but from the perspective of a human, he was beautiful: hairless pink-hued skin covered with freckle-like patches that lit up different colors depending on his mood. Murdoc closed his eyes, focusing on the smell and mouthfeel, and the way Stalien’s breath hitched as he kissed along his neck, sometimes stopping to suckle at a patch of skin that seemed particularly sensitive. He held back on using his teeth, knowing that this was already something new, and not wanting to push boundaries.

His breath hitched a few times as Murdoc’s lips traveled up his neck towards his long, pointed ear, so he kissed his way there, tongue gliding along the soft bumps there. Stalien gave a full-body shudder at that.

“So sensitive,” he breathed right into the shell of his ear, earning a soft groan.

He continued to trace his palms down the alien’s chest, fingers riding the dips and curves of his flesh, reading a language he so wanted to learn.

**I never knew that…**Stalien tilted his head to the side, offering more of himself up to Murdoc’s ministrations, **I never knew that hands could feel so good. So exciting!**

“Oh freckles,” he cooed, “you haven’t felt nothing yet.”

He moved lower, nipping the alien’s collarbone and reveling in the little yelp it earned him. Being mates with a seven-foot alien with a dick the size of an infant’s arm had led him to be on the more submissive side, a role he had no problem with. He’d always been a versatile lover, willing to try anything new. But it felt nice to take the lead for once, to be able to show Stalien something new. Dragging his tongue down his lover’s chest, he let his hands glide down his tummy, amazed when Stalien stirred and made a soft laugh-like noise.

“You okay?”

**Feels weird,** he confessed, his hands running through Murdoc’s hair. **Sort of funny, not painful or sensual just…**

“Ticklish?”

**I don’t understand what that word means.**

Murdoc smirked and kissed lower till his mouth was where Stalien’s bellybutton would be if he had one. He leaned down and blew a raspberry right against the flesh there and Stalien jerked up, hands gripping at Murdoc tightly and barking out a laugh of surprise. Though he was quick to smile for his human, humor was not something that seemed to come quickly for him, and the sound of his laughter was euphoric. The alien’s aura seemed to lighten up a bit then, some of his earlier angst dissipating incrementally.

“You’re ticklish, stupid.”

**Teaching me new things about myself. My mate, you never cease to amaze me.**

Something warm blossomed his chest at those words, and he looked up to smile at his lover.

Stalien’s skin was alight in a color he’d never seen before. Rather than the dark blue or bright pink colors he’d seen the alien’s coloration take on, he was emitting a sort of indigo hue, and although it was only the scattering of starlike bioluminescent patches of his skin that lit up, his entire body seemed aglow with desire and pleasure.

He was breathtaking to behold, and Murdoc felt his jeans tightening at the view. Even stronger than that was the sort of warmth that sparked in his mind, that connection he had with Stalien, the promise that they were mated, bonded. Their moods were improving as the focused on one another: each a source of immeasurable comfort for the other.

Stalien could sense his arousal and affection, and his four hands settled on him, eager to start touching back.

“No no,” Murdoc pushed his hands down, pinning two of his wrists to the mattress, “I don’t want to rush into sex, luv. Let me draw this out, okay?”

**But…I want to touch you too. Pleasure you, Murdoc. No sex.**

“You can later. Just enjoy the wanting.”

**But I’m not used to—**

“Oi. Let me do this. I’m enjoying myself up here, you know.”

Stalien stilled below him, unable to argue. If Murdoc was happy, he would allow just about anything to continue. And so, with another minute nod, he obeyed, dropping down and giggling a little more as Murdoc attacked his hipbones, first with soft, playful kisses that tickled, then with gentle sucks that had him sighing pleasurably.

It was about as close to heaven as Murdoc had felt in a very long time. He’d always been a giver in bed, and being able to work Stalien up was an opportunity he’d never expected to get. The alien’s willingness to hand control over to him, and to enjoy it, has inflating his ego like nothing else could. The memories of the row he’d had with his father had virtually disappeared as he focused on the way Stalien’s legs squirmed when he kissed the edge of his beltline, eventually unbuckling it and beginning to work the rest of his jumpsuit off.

That familiar high was returning to his mind, the intoxicating thrill of intimacy with a partner who could read him so thoroughly without words. This was delicious.

“Mm, we never do anything like this on my planet,” Stalien admitted, and Murdoc jumped a bit, surprised that he was opting to speak aloud as he generally bypassed that completely.

“You don’t ever play around? No handjobs, no blowies? Remind me to never go visit with you,” he joked.

“No what?”

“We’ll get to that,” he promised with his best, most feline smirk. “I’m just shocked that no one’s ever done this to you before. You’re stunning. The fact that no one has ever worshipped you is a damn shame.”

“Worship? Murdoc, that’s excessive.”

“It’s exactly what I mean to do,” he challenged. “It’s what I want more than anything. To make you feel good, to get to watch you feel good and know I’m doing this to you—”

“To know no one has ever touched my body like you?” the alien guessed, and it was one of the most overtly flirty things he’d ever said.

Murdoc flushed but smiled. “Now you’re getting it.” It was unspoken between them, but they could both feel it, the bond between them getting ever stronger with this show of vulnerability and trust.

Although Stalien often dematerialized his clothes consciously, he allowed Murdoc to fiddle with his belt, to eventually work it off and to pull the jumpsuit down his legs. Given the long legs and awkwardly-shaped feet, divesting the alien of his clothes completely took a couple of less-than-sexy minutes, Stalien huffing out amused little laughs as Murdoc cursed under his breath. They were both enjoying themselves though, rapt with the new experience like two teenagers getting it on for the first time.

After Murdoc finally had the alien naked, he straddled his waist once again. Stalien’s cock was hard and flushed between his legs and Murdoc knew all he had to do was reach down to coax the second one out of its sheath, but for the time being, he ignored that route, taking each of his mate’s hands one by one and kissing along the delicate skin of his inner wrist and forearms, finally pressing kisses to each of his four palms one at a time. 

These hands had steered spaceships, had danced elegantly over technology the likes of which he knew he would never comprehend. They had also held him, maneuvered him over this very bed countless times, stroked his hair soothingly when he was having a bad day, torn his clothes from his body in moments of passion.

What lovely hands they were. 

“Murdoc, please.”

“Hmm?”

“I want you…”

“You want me to move things along, pet?”

“Please, yes.”

Really, he was too worked up himself to argue. So he crawled down his lover’s body, settling comfortably between his parted thighs and running a hand down his belly, then down his lovely, toned legs. Just when he sensed Stalien was expecting him to touch where he most wanted, he got to work kissing from the inside of his knees up to the seam of his legs, up and down and up again, peppering in sucks and nibbles as he saw fit.

If the alien had been sensitive with hands running along his hips and sides, it was nothing compared to the way he shuddered and arched when Murdoc’s lips explored the delicate flesh here.

Finally, when Stalien let out something very akin to a whimper, he kissed up, letting his hands come to settle on the thick cock that bobbed right before him. Teasingly, he stroked it, face flushing slightly at how big it looked in his hand as his fingers wrapped around its impressive girth. After a few strokes, he reached down to the slit right below the base of the cock, dipping his fingers into a musky slickness and moaning as Stalien’s second prick was coaxed out by his fingers. While not as large as the primary one, this cock was self-lubricating and capable of moving, more like a tongue than a dick. It felt like heaven when Stalien fucked him with it, but now he satisfied himself with using the wetness it leaked to lube his hands as he stroked both cocks to full hardness, licking his lips at the noise.

“Murdoc!”

“Hush. You’ll get yours. You love learning new things, pet. So let me show you how to give a proper handjob,” he sounded a lot more composed than he felt. Really, the sight of the two dicks, flushed all magenta and royal purple before him, was making him feel almost dizzy with want. How many times had Stalien absolutely shattered him with orgasm, stuffing him full with each one? But this was not the time to let those memories wash over him, however much it made them both groan and bite their lips. Instead, he swirled his thumb over the tip and slipped his hand down to the base, pausing occasionally to dip his fingers into the slickness the alien produced to keep his movements slippery.

The sight and smell were making his mouth water. Stalien was always respectful, had never tried to read Murdoc’s mind without his consent, and therefore, he knew there was no way the alien could know how many times he’d fantasized about this moment, about how good this flesh might feel gliding beneath his fingers, or hot and heavy on his tongue.

Without hesitating, he leaned down and opened his mouth to taste the tip of the larger dick, moaning softly.

**Murdoc! That’s…oh!**

“Mm,” he agreed, letting a few inches slide further into his mouth, lips burning slightly with the stretch of it. The girth alone made this body worship slow going, and they both understood that there was no way Murdoc would be fitting the whole twelve inches down his throat. No matter, he pumped, fast and loud with wetness over the inches that he couldn’t get into his mouth, couldn’t suck on. He made sure to show Stalien just how dexterous his tongue could be, coiling it around the length and dragging.

**I’ve never felt anything like this,** Stalien was coming as close to babbling as Murdoc had ever heard him. **Your mouth is simply amazing. You feel so good!**

Murdoc pulled off with a satisfied hum, and before the alien could complain or ask why he was stopping, he was reaching down to guide the secondary cock between his lips, groaning wantonly at the taste of Stalien’s slick, eyes rolling back in his head.

Whining in ecstasy, the alien grabbed at the headboard of the bed, the ancient wood creaking and threatening to splinter under his strength as he focused all of his energy on not snapping his hips up and gagging his human. He was so attentive, even as he gave over to pleasure, let himself become putty in Murdoc’s hands and mouth, he still refused to let himself lose control enough to hurt his mate.

Murdoc continued to moan around the taste and the rigid heat against his tongue, mind swirling with this dirty fantasy come to life, one cock throbbing in his fist, one down his throat, the sound of his love moaning and whining beneath him at the assault. This was so unapologetically messy, the kind of bedsheet-ruining sex that he loved best. His own cock was straining painfully between his legs, but for the moment, even his own lack of satisfaction turned him on. There was something delightful in the knowledge that he alone was wrecking his lover.

Muscles in Stalien’s thighs twitched as he neared release, and Murdoc, unable to touch himself while he sucked his lover off given that both hands were full, found himself humping the mattress, rutting like an animal in heat to relieve some of the pressure between his own legs. Electricity sparked between his legs as he found enough friction to satisfy himself somewhat, caught between the ecstasy of getting his throat fucked, the wet sound and hot feel of a cock in his palm, the illicit thrill of rocking towards his own orgasm all at once.

He wondered idly as his long tongue slid over the bumps and ridges of Stalien’s leaking cock, what it would feel like to be on the receiving end of this kind of treatment given his lover’s unique tongue. The thought made him whine, and he must of slipped up and allowed this fantasy to spill forward into his partner’s consciousness, because suddenly Stalien was talking to him, even as he panted towards his climax.

**I want to,** the alien communicated to him, sounding wrecked. **I want to give this pleasure back to you, my pretty little mate. I’ll make you feel so good.**

**Yeah,** Murdoc agreed, whimpering and taking another inch down his throat. **Yeah. Fuck yeah.**

**I’m close. Murdoc, I’m going to…you need to know that I’m going to—**

Murdoc pulled back and grinned, stroking the shorter of his lover’s cocks and tonguing the slit eagerly, locking eyes with his lover. “You close, pet? Come all over me then. And watch me as you do it.” He spoke aloud just so he could hear the jaggedness of his rawfucked voice.

That was all it took, and suddenly Stalien’s hips were snapping up and the glowing freckles all over his body were going from royal purple to an electric violet as he shook and came and came. Murdoc moaned and encouraged the noises that spilled from the alien’s throat, panting slightly at the feeling of thick, hot cum lashing against his chin and cheeks, dirtying him.

Time seemed to stand still as they both breathed heavily, watching Stalien twitch and arch and slowly, slowly come down off his high, only to collapse back, staring up at the celling and panting. Murdoc pressed a final kiss to his lover’s softening cock before pulling back, reveling in the feeling of cum dripping down his face. It had been ages since he’d had a proper facial. The filthy feeling was something he loved. To be soiled by pleasure.

**That was…**

“Good?” he offered. “Do you see why we humans like this sort of thing?”

**‘Good’ does not even begin to describe it. That was like nothing I ever experienced. I cannot believe I’ve gone my life not knowing one could feel so amazing…**

He was cut off as Murdoc climbed back up his body, gazing at his lips. “You’re cute when you babble. Now kiss me.”

He obeyed eagerly, all four arms shooting up to hold his mate and this time not getting pushed away. Murdoc sighed happily, pushing his tongue into his lover’s mouth so he could taste himself, fingers twisting through feathersoft strands of blue hair. They made out for a few minutes, their faces smearing with release, which Stalien eventually paused to wipe from their faces with a bemused expression before his four dark, galaxyflecked eyes landed on Murdoc.

**Now it is my turn.**

“Hm?”

Before the human could process what had happened, their positions were flipped, Murdoc pinned beneath Stalien, who used one set of arms to press his wrists against either side of his head and the other set to hitch his tee-shirt up. How he managed to look so predatory and affectionate simultaneously was a mystery, but it made Murdoc’s cock twitch in excitement anyway.

**What wonderful things you have taught me today, pretty little human. Now, let me try my hand.**

“I’d love that,” Murdoc gasped, shuddering as a sharp-toothed mouth descended upon his neck. They’d necked in the past of course, and Murdoc had found he quite enjoyed the feeling of Stalien’s exquisite sharp teeth worrying his flesh. He’d always been a little shy about admitting this though: one overzealous lovebite could probably lead to hospitalization.

But then, Stalien had held still and trusted him, so why not offer that trust right back?

“You uh, you can use your teeth, just a bit,” he grunted, tilting his head back as Stalien’s lips pressed hard against his pounding jugular.

“I will be gentle,” he whispered against his skin, reading Murdoc’s anxiety easily and very, very softly nibbling below his ear, hitting that sweet spot between pain and pleasure that Murdoc had always reveled in. 

“Fuck yes, just like that!”

Stalien’s grip on his wrists tightened enough to bruise in his excitement as Murdoc began to arch up into his ministrations, groaning at the joy of being so eagerly devoured, claimed. Desired.

“Don’t stop,” he grit out, “touch me, touch me.”

Stalien didn’t need to be told twice. His arms moved like blurs, hitching up Murdoc’s shirt, petting his chest, his belly, his hips, mimicking the attentions that had just been lavished on him as he continued to suck dark purple hickeys against his neck, then tongue the abused flesh teasingly. 

The human jolted as Stalien’s fingers brushed over his nipples and he smirked, pinching them simultaneously. Murdoc’s back arched spectacularly.

“Fuck!”

“Sensitive,” he teased, kissing down his collarbone, echoing Murdoc’s words from earlier that night. “Let’s get this shirt off so I can play with you some more.”

“Where there hell did you learn to dirty talk?”

“You, my mate.”

“Fuck me.”

“Yes, Murdoc, later.” 

And so there was nothing to be done but moan as he was manhandled, his shirt pulled off over his head and his body instantly pinned to the bed again, though this time Stalien abandoned pinning his wrists down in favor of stroking all four palms over the expanse of bare flesh before him and sending goosebumps erupting in their wake, tracing the hickeys he had made reverently, cupping the elegant bend of his hipbones where they rose from his abdomen, dipping coy fingers into his bellybutton. All the while, Stalien did not fail to transmit emotional fondness over their connected minds as well, so Murdoc was aware with each stroke and pet just how much his mate was enjoying the view.

**So lovely, Murdoc. You’re flushed down to your chest already. So cute like this. I can’t believe I have not slowed down to savor you like this yet. I doubt I’ll ever be able to fuck you again without first taking you apart.**

“Wouldn’t be opposed to that,” he conceded with a soft smile as Stalien’s two-pronged tongue found his nipple and began to do what fingers had just been doing. “Oh shit. If I survive this without dying from pleasure.”

**This is too much?**

“No! It’s…you’re perfect, pet.”

**Good. As long as you’re happy, Murdoc. Because I really do mean to make you come all over yourself.**

“God, yes, yeah, fuck me up, I want it.”

**You need it.**

“Yeah, I do. Need you to fuck me so good.”

That clever mouth worked its way back up to Murdoc’s shoulder, bit down just enough to hurt deliciously, then began traveling down his body again, past the nipples that he continued to pinch and tease till they were red and swollen the way Murdoc loved, past the belly that heaved with frantic breathes, towards his pant line. Murdoc clutched at the sheets pathetically, trying to rut up and grind against his lover.

**I’m going to strip you bare now, okay?**

“Mhm, go ‘head.”

Murdoc put up no fight as his trousers were worked open, forced down his legs along with his underwear, thrown aside with his boots and socks. He couldn’t help but moan desperately at the feeling of powerful hands grabbing him by the backs of his knees and shoving his legs apart, putting him on full display. He bit his lip and dared to look up, finding Stalien’s four dark eyes fixed between his legs where his cock had already leaked all over his dark pubic hair and lower belly.

“Aren’t you going to touch me?” he prompted when he felt that he’d been kept waiting long enough.

**I could,** Stalien agreed, something mischievous glinting in his galaxyspeckled eyes. **Or, I could just plan all the things I’d like to do to you and watch how it might play out.**

Murdoc swallowed thickly. It was both the most gratifying and infuriating thing, the alien’s ability to make him incoherent with desire without laying a finger on him. Yet before he could argue, Stalien had begun, wordlessly communicating the desire to—and the sensation of—running a hand down his body from his sternum to his cock and taking him in hand.

“Oh god!”

Like that, a flip was switched, Murdoc’s mind being bombarded by whatever Stalien wanted to do to him, and his nervous system lighting up as though the assault of pleasure was really happening. In his mind’s eye, he saw Stalien’s hands once again throwing his legs apart, exposing him, trailing teasing fingers up and down his shaking thighs. Stalien’s tongue tracing shapes against his hips, the skin where his legs met his torso. Hands holding him down by the shoulders as his huge, powerful mate leered down at him with unbridled need. His own cocks were both hard again, dripping down onto Murdoc’s trembling body as he begged for release.

It was over-stimulating: too much sensation, too much pleasure.

It was nowhere near enough.

“Please,” he ground out as he felt his orgasm building. “I wanna come from touch, not mind games. Please, pet.”

**All you have to do is ask,** Stalien assured, and just like that, he withdrew his imagination from the mix, opting instead to lean down and take the tip of Murdoc’s cock into his mouth.

“Shit!”

**Oh, you taste good. Your flesh feels so nice and hot on my tongue. I’m all worked up all over again.**

“Please,” he sobbed, and oh fuck how embarrassing, how long had there been tears leaking out of his eyes?

“What’s wrong, Murdoc? Should we slow down?”

“No…please…touch me. And touch yourself too. I want you to get off from making me cum.”

Now it was the alien’s turn to moan, a low, needy sound. He obeyed, one hand reaching down between his legs to start stroking himself off. “Not as good as your hand,” he confessed with a wink.

Murdoc beamed at the obedience and the praise, propping himself up just a bit. He reached up to wipe the tears from his face, but Stalien beat him to it, one hand delicately swabbing both cheeks dry. It was remarkable, that a creature so huge and feral could also touch him with such petalsoft tenderness.

As soon as he was content that Murdoc was stable and willing enough to continue, he dropped his head back down, one hand still working over himself, the sound wet and obscene. Opening his mouth, he resumed where he’d left off, suckling Murdoc into his mouth and humming thoughtfully at the sensation.

“Careful with the teeth,” Murdoc said. His warning was unnecessary; Stalien had carefully folded his lips over his sharp teeth, focusing on suction and then, ultimately, tongue. Murdoc’s toes curled and his head snapped back as Stalien’s long tongue licked up the length of his flushed dick, forked ends twisting around the head where he was most sensitive and prodding at the slit of his cock in alternating strokes. “Ah! Keep doing that and I’m going to lose it.”

**That’s exactly what I wanted to hear,** he replied, moving faster, alternating between taking the entirety of Murdoc’s length down his throat and devouring his tip with tongue. **I mean to make every cell in your body thrum with pleasure, my mate. I want you to lose your mind with pleasure, with the sensation that only I can give you.**

The lewd images and sensations from earlier returned to Murdoc’s mind as he writhed under the pleasure. As Stalien devoured him, he filled their shared consciousness with memories of all the times Murdoc had spread himself open on hands and knees, begging to be filled and stretched with cock. He could feel Stalien’s desire to fuck him like that again, to pin his body down and fill him, mate him, satisfy him like no other lover ever could. It was as though his insides were melting down into something molten as he quavered, only capable of twitching and gasping breathlessly at the dual assault of physical touch and mental pornography.

Stalien was making good on his promise, destroying Murdoc on a cellular level, filling the very spaces between his electrons with the reoccurring promise: 

**I care so deeply for you. I desire you. I will never not want you like this. You’re so beautiful.**

He hadn’t even realized as he arched and thrashed and sobbed in rapture what an effect he was having on Stalien until the alien pulled back from his cock suddenly so sit up and growl, his second orgasm of the night tearing through him and making his body ripple, all purple light and starlike brilliance. He came all over Murdoc, covering his body in thick streaks of release. The hot ropes lashing across his flushed skin made Murdoc shiver and whine, and as soon as Stalien had slowed and caught his breath, he was being pulled back down, face shoved between the human’s legs.

He chuckled and obeyed the wordless order, tongue returning to Murdoc’s cock and cum-slick fingers teasing his scrotum, then his perineum. 

“Oh, oh fuck, oh god.”

**Take it, Murdoc. Take it because I want you to feel it all,** he urged, pushing one, then two fingers into his lover and crooking them just right, finding that bundle of nerves that he had become so acquainted with. **Take everything that I give you. You’re my mate. You’re so good at this, lovely thing.**

“Ah!”

**That’s it, take this pleasure, take the knowledge that I love fucking you senseless like this. And come for me, Murdoc. Come now, dearest mine.**

Murdoc threw his head back and wailed. And he came. And came and came and came. He was aware of Stalien lapping at his hole as he shot all over the alien’s face, of four hands stroking his skin, soothing him, reassuring him, supporting his splayed, shaking legs. The various visions of them fucking, the ones Stalien had been broadcasting directly into his mind, fizzled around the edges and seared white as orgasm intense enough to make his legs kick out and his fingers tear at the sheets till they ripped shook his body. He felt like he was floating. He ached with delight. It was perfect.

And then, his vision faded to black. He could hear his own breathless whimpers, and the low rasp of Stalien’s voice, coming from far away, like he was deep underwater:

**Mine.**

The next thing Murdoc knew, he was rolling over in bed, feeling like he’d just woken up from a pleasant afternoon nap. He could feel Stalien beside him, so he turned to smile placidly at him.

“Murdoc?”

“’Lo, luv. Time is it?”

“You’re asking me what time it is? Murdoc, are you okay?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Your mind turned…off for a moment. You scared me!”

“I think I blacked out,” he murmured, looking down at the mess of his body and remembering with sudden clarity that indeed, he had just had a nerve-splitting orgasm. “Oh shit, I really fucking did!” He sat up and took in the sight of the ruined sheets, of the purple slick spattered over his body, the telltale smell of arousal, the comical sight of Stalien gaping at him frantically, his own face streaked with cum. “You fucked me so good I blacked out, you idiot!”

“I have hurt you then? I’m so sorry!”

“No, no, I’m not hurt,” he promised.

“Do you mean that? Promise me you’re okay—”

“I mean, you went to town on my neck, I can feel that. But it doesn’t hurt too bad. Nah, mate, that was great,” he grinned. “You made me feel so good, so bloody wanted. Uh…” Thank you. He didn’t say the last part aloud, but he was pretty sure Stalien could hear it anyway.

“That was…very fun. Murdoc, thank you. For showing me how to do that. From the moment we bonded, I assumed I would be the one coaching you through it, guiding you through the ups and downs of our connection. But humans are so full of surprises. You’ve taught me a great deal today. I am grateful for it.”

Those words were enough to make his chest ache with something far softer than he was ready to feel. “Always great to hear some gratitude; I know my cocksucking skills are premium, pet. Trust me”

As it often was, his humor seemed lost on the alien, who smiled back at him, but looked more puzzled than amused. “Lie down now, dearest mine. You should rest.”

“Right, right,” he kept his mouth shut about how much he liked their post-coital cuddles; the heat that the alien emitted was like having a soft, personal furnace to nap against. A furnace that stroked his hair, kissed his temples as he drifted off, held him close. Nothing like a furnace at all really. “Hey. Uh, you were in a shitty mood this morning. Feeling any better now?”

“Are you really asking me how I’m feeling?”

“Your window of opportunity is rapidly diminishing, E.T.”

“My mood is much improved, thank you. I am still concerned about my lack of progress, and I’ll admit that I’m beginning to feel impatient,” they both laid back, bodies lax and minds connected to a dull white noise of emotional transmission between them. “But then, lying here with you, I cannot feel that my time on Earth is wasted. After all, I have my mate here, showing me such wonderful things about bonding, about pleasure.” 

“Well…be grateful you bonded with a kinky fuck, not some nun or something.”

“I have no idea what that means.”

“Don’t worry about it, freckles.” He realized around a yawn as he settled in for a nap, that this, this being held against a warm body, was something he had been craving as much as the sex. In fact, this sort of intimacy, the simple act of feeling someone cuddled up against him, felt like something locking into place, something he’d spent his whole life searching for.

And how long had it taken? To be wanted like this. A lifetime of longing for validation left him wondering if maybe this was only temporary, if maybe this too would yield to more misery, just as every bit of happiness he’d ever found so far in life had been tarnished by circumstance, by his own toxic life.

Of course, pressed up this close to Stalien, his feelings were broadcasting loud and clear, and the alien kissed the back of his neck, then the crown of his head.

“Murdoc. You are my mate and I am yours. I promise there will never, ever be a moment that I do not want you. Understand?”

“No,” he admitted, voice muffled against the pillow. “Not really.”

The alien was quiet for so long that he assumed the conversation had been dropped, and he’d begun to drift to sleep when he spoke again. “Then at least promise that you’ll give me a chance to prove myself true?”

Murdoc inhaled slowly and, as he exhaled, allowed every muscle in his body to relax. The result felt something like melting, as though he was molding his shape against the alien’s own body, coming to meld against him so the spaces between them ceased to be.

“’m not going anywhere. As long as you still want me, I’m right here.”

“I think when you wake up from your nap, I may want you again.” The lips against his hair were smiling, he could just tell.

“That a threat or a promise?”

“I would never threaten my mate.”

“Then it’s a promise, freckles. Give me a half hour, then those cocks better be hard for me again.”

“As you wish, my needy human,” he agreed, squeezing Murdoc still closer to him as Murdoc was finally able to drift off into a comfortable, dreamless sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, thanks so much for reading! Feedback is always super welcome, and you're welcome to hit me up on Tumblr (@supposedtobfunny), where I'm most active. Thank you for your support! :D


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